The Mosquitos have arrived

Two days ago, it had been lovely and cool, just the way I like it, then the heat hit hard - 28 degrees yesterday.  That's nuts, but I'm sure many would disagree.  Remember the good old days when there was this thing called spring, that period of transition where a person got prepared for the heat of summer through gradual increases in temperature.  Those who know me, know my aversion to heat especially when it's above 23.  My internal thermostat is always set on high so I don't need any external help.  Well that's my itch session for toay.  Always good to scratch an itch!
I've been walking each morning around 8 a.m. and often I step out of my imagination long enough to actually look up at the landscape.  Three Hills is definitely prairie and at this time of year it's patchwork prairie with muted shades of brown, tan and grey.  Not the prettiest but still very interesting with it's horizon, plow lines and natural curves.

You can see for miles and miles and miles.

        I guess if you can look up and down the track and not see a train coming then it's ok to go.

You know you're on the prairies when.....

Friend Wynn Ann & Treble checking out a cherry tree.

We had a bit of a thunderstorm last night, brought rain and relief from the heat but hasn't deterred the mosquitos.  That's why, the last few mornings, I've taken to wearing my light jacket zipped up to my neck with the hood up. I feel like a cross between Rocky (running up the stairs) and the unibomber with my keep the sun out from every angle shades.  Usually I'm out with my friend and her dog but not that morning.  It was just me and Treble, a Malamut that looks like a Norwegian Elkhound, so I'm told.  Treble, named after a soccer or rugby move, loves to hunt mice and it's a kick to watch her pounce, then bury herself up to her neck in a hole where her victim, no doubt, is up against an earthern walls quivering.
Two nights ago we had a ladies night at the house, just the four of us one of whom was Jean from Revelstoke.  When I lived in Okotoks, I had few occasions to prepare meals for my friends since none of us lived closeby so, since I've been on the road, I've made many meals.  It's a way of saying thanks for the bed but also it allows me to play with food and see what I can come up with.  That's always fun!  Last night it was pork tenderloin stuffed with prunes and appricot with a carrot/ginger marmelaide glaze served on a bed of mixed greens with strawberries, pecans, red onion, avacado, pear and drizzled with a  poppy seed vinargarette.  Yummy!  We followed that with mini angel food cups drizzled lightly with Sambuca, topped with strawberries and a dollops of light whipped cream (you can use more when it's light). Wink!  It was lovely to sit, chat and laugh with friends and enjoy a meal.  We toasted friendship, good food and life.  Later we watched Shirley Valentine.  If there was ever a movie to watch with your girlfriends, Shirley Valentine is the one, especially for us over 40 crowd.
I have another story to share.  I wrote this one a few months ago as a result of a conversation I had about ego.  I made a statement about killing off the ego and this is the result of that conversation.


 Finding Grace

The first time I saw her she was out of control - kicking and screaming, smashing her fists into the concrete wall like someone possessed. When I looked at her I saw myself, decades earlier, railing against something I could not name.


Like her, I scared people. I seemed always on the brink of explosion and often expected one day I’d simply shatter into a million pieces. I believed I was the seed of the devil. I truly believed it. That’s how my mind came to terms with the things I had done and the storms that were brewing inside me.


I was one big reaction looking for an outlet.


My heart pained for the child I saw on the other side of the reinforced glass. She was only twelve yet something had turned her into this.


It was how she survived, how she protected herself, how she kept the world at bay and how she fooled everyone, including herself, into believing something that wasn’t true.


She was simply a little girl who was scared of something she could not name. Acting out was how she felt in control, and all she knew to do with the demons inside of her.


I suppose because I had survived my own childhood, it was only natural that my life’s work should involve troubled youth but nothing I had done to date could prepare me for what lay ahead, except the fact I had been where she was.


I chose psychiatry as a profession because somewhere deep I knew I would meet myself again one day in the form of a young girl. My soul’s purpose was to help her as I had been helped.


Some said I had no idea what I was getting into. On the contrary, I knew exactly what that was.


Here was a child, lost in anger, fear and rage who turned that rage against herself and anyone who dared get close.

***


I pushed open the door and walked in. She stopped and stared at me, eyes cynical and menacing.


“What the hell do you want?”


“I want to help you,” I said.


“I don’t need your help,” she screamed. “Get out of here. Get out of here.”


“My name is Sydney Welch and I’m here to …”


Before I could finish she was on me. Her teeth clenched onto my shoulder.


I winced but did not scream.


“Stop that,” I scolded and with all my strength pushed her away and held her at arms length.


“I’m here to help you.”


“Screw you,” she growled and kicked my shins.


“I’m here to help you,” I repeated as two male orderlies pulled her away and cuffed her to the bed.


“You want to help? Get these bastards off me.”


“Watch your mouth little girl,” one of them ordered.


I checked my shoulder. The bite mark was deep but no skin was broken. I walked over to the bed, took her face in my hands and turned her head towards me.


“You won’t believe this now but I know what you’re feeling and I am going to help you because you really do want to be helped.”


She relaxed and looked into my eyes, searching, then spat in my face.


“Bitch,” she snarled.


I wiped the spittle with my sleeve.


“That’s okay. We’ve got all kinds of time. You rest and I’ll see you again Monday.”


“Not likely, I’m outta here tomorrow.”


“No, I’m afraid you’re not. The judge has ordered that you spend three months here and we’re going to use that time to get you the help you need.”


“You’re lying,” she screamed again looking desperate and suddenly like the little girl she was. “I’m getting out tomorrow. I always get out in a day or two.”


“Not this time. You can’t keep doing the things you do and expect no consequences.”


She lost control then, kicking and clawing at the air, trying to free herself from the restraints.


I turned and faced the orderlies.


“It’s ok, you can go. I’ll be fine.”


“But,” one of them said.


“She’s restrained. How much harm can she do?”


Shaking their heads, they walked out and closed the door.


I looked back and watched her struggle, knowing soon she would be spent, exhausted from the futile effort to free herself.


“I’ll stay with you til you fall asleep,” I said. “We’ll get started bright and early Monday morning.” My words drowned in her screams.


Doubt crept in but I dismissed it. One thing she could never see was doubt. I’d have to be relentless in my efforts to win her trust.


God help me, and her, if I didn’t.


I did as I said and stayed by her bedside. She stopped her screaming but said nothing. I sat on the floor, facing the opposite wall and listened to her breathe. At first it was heavy and labored but soon became shallow and soft.


She whimpered a little in her sleep and I turned and looked into a face no longer distorted with rage. It was angelic in its perfection.


That must have been what my psychiatrist Sheilagh Downey saw when she looked at me all those years ago, what gave her hope.


Tonight, I too felt that hope.


Before I left, I removed the restraints from her ankles and wrists and pulled a blanket up over her. She whimpered again, turned on her side and pulled her body tight into the fetal position then buried her head under the blanket.


I wondered if her dreams were as tormented as mine had been.


***


The phone rang as I unlocked the door to my condo. I tossed my purse and keys on the entrance table and ran to the kitchen.


“Hello.”


“Hi, Syd, it’s Marty.”


My shoulders slumped. “Hi Marty, what’s up?” I asked without much inflection.


“Nothing’s up,” he protested. “I was just calling to see how you are.”


“It’s a little late to be calling for that, isn’t it?”


“It’s only 9:30!” he said, missing the point.


“I didn’t mean it that way. What do you want?” I filled the kettle and flipped the switch.


“Can’t a guy call and see how his girl is doing?”


“Marty,” I chuckled. “I am neither a girl nor your girl. So, why are you calling?”


“Why do you have to be so difficult?” he demanded.


“Oh, I don’t know. Let me see - how about the fact that you screwed the wife of your best friend before and during our marriage.”


“I said I was sorry.”


“Sorry you got caught is more like it.”


“I thought you forgave me.”


“I did forgive you and I thanked you for giving me a way out of this poor excuse for a marriage. Again, why are you calling?”


“Well, I want to take you out to dinner. I’d like to take another crack at it. Our marriage, I mean.”


This time I laughed.


“What’s so funny?”


“You, you’re bloody hysterical. You can’t believe I want to go back to the way things were.”


“No, of course not! I was hoping we could talk about trying again and making it better this time.”


What’s he up to? I wondered. Then it hit me.


“Ah, Kate’s left you, hasn’t she?”


There was a pause. “No, Kate hasn’t left me,” he said trying to mimic my voice. “I left her.”


He was lying.


“Marty, let me make this clear once and for all, so there’s never any doubt in your mind. I wouldn’t have you back if you came with a million dollar cheque and a life time guarantee.”


“If you recall,” I continued, “I wasn’t all that upset when I found out. There’s a reason for that. I just don’t care. I have no intention of spending time with you.”


“Well, that’s no…”


“And, if you don’t sign those papers by the end of the week, I’ll sue you for a divorce and believe me, you don’t want me to do that, financially or otherwise. Are we clear?”


“Wow, you’ve grown balls!” he said.


“And you’ve never had them,” I shot back. “I expect a call from my lawyer by Friday. Don’t call me again.” I hung up before he could respond.


When I turned on the radio, Carly Simon was singing, You’re so vain. You probably think this song is about you.


Timing is everything I thought and chuckled again as I headed upstairs to undress.


By the time I changed into my pajamas, the kettle was whistling. I made myself a mug of tea, switched off the radio and went into the living room to watch the late news.


It was just after midnight when I woke to David Letterman making sport of Tiger Woods who finally admitted to multiple affairs. I shut it off and headed upstairs to bed.


As I lay tossing and turning I thought of Sheilagh Downey, of how much she had helped me and how much I could use her help right now.


***


She came to me in a dream that night. Whatever the place, there was no floor or ceiling or walls. It was a space surrounded by a pink blush of colour. We were seated but without the benefit of furniture.


Our hair moved as if by a breeze yet there was no wind and I could feel warmth surround me though there was no sun.


We didn’t speak but seemed to communicate telepathically. I could hear a chic-a-dee chirp in the distance and could detect a scent of jasmine.


“So, history repeats itself,” she said.


“Yes, but I’m not as confident as you were,” I told her.


“Sydney, you have no idea how scared I was.”


“Scared of what?” I asked her.


“Scared of you! Scared of everything,” she said. “I had no idea what I was doing. The only thing I was sure of was you.”


“Me? You were sure of me?” I was astonished.


“Yes. You were a survivor but more than that, you were a fighter. You fought against everything and anything. It showed me you had courage, and you were smart. You dodged all my efforts in the beginning to help you. It was pretty frustrating.”


“So why did you continue?”


“Because I could and because I had a choice,” she said. “You, on the other hand, did not. And because my mother advised me to.”


“Your mother, what do you mean?”


Suddenly her mother was seated between us. Her long white wavy hair was tied in a wreath of daisies. She wore a psychedelic print dress and sat in the lotus position, eyes closed with a serene smile on her face.


“When Sheilagh told me what was troubling her I said, of course she’s wild. How else can she be? Heaven only knows what’s buried inside that child. It’s your job to be patient and wait til she’s ready to reveal it. That’s all you have to do, that and gain her trust.”


She snapped her fingers and was gone.


I looked at Sheilagh.


“It couldn’t have been easy.” I said.


“No but it wasn’t supposed to be. My mother put everything into perspective. She made me realize that this wasn’t about me. It was about you and finding a way to reach you.”


“And you did,” I said, grateful she had.


“Yes, I did, eventually but not without your willingness to meet me part way. It took both of us trusting the other to make it happen.”


“So what’s your plan?” she asked.


“My plan is to be for this child what you were for me.”


“Then go do it.”


***


I woke the next morning feeling calm and sure but sad.


It had been a year since Sheilagh Downey had passed, following six hard months battling cancer. I was the closest thing she had to family and we spent most of the last three weeks of her life together.


I watched hope turn to resignation and then acceptance as the treatments failed to eradicate the disease.


We cried together, but only once. She was nothing if not pragmatic.


“Let’s not get morbid,” she said. “If the pain gets too much, all I have to do is push a button and voila, I get an instant fix of morphine.”


The last days before her death, she spent in a drug-induced stupor. When she spoke it was about flying or angels or seeing her parents and four year old daughter at heaven’s gate waiting for her.


She was ready to go. Her breathing became shallow until one afternoon, it stopped.


Life was difficult in the months following her death. I wondered how I would cope without my friend, my mentor, the person I wished had been my mother. She had shown me her strength and I drew upon it to move forward.


She was as near as my heart and her wisdom lived within me.


So it was with calm and confidence that I walked into the hospital Monday morning and waited to be assaulted by the facade that shielded Elynore Grace O’Flannery.

I've gotten lazy.

I'm not sure what's up with me the last four days I've been in Three Hills.  My internal alarm seems to have shut down altogether.  I've woken at 6 a.m. but I turn over and go back to sleep for another two or more hours.  I am feeling so lazy!
I've gone for a few walks but nothing more than 40 minutes.  In addition to a walk this am, I did mow the lawn so that's a bit of exercise but here I am parked again, using the blog as a excuse, no doubt. 
Because I haven't strayed too far afield or taken pictures since I've been here, I thought I'd download a story I wrote yesterday.  I was feeling like I needed to be write something.
I've been asked, even by other writers, where do I come up with the ideas for stories I write.  I don't know.  There just in there.  I think up a line and everything else flows from that.  I thought that's the way it is with everyone but apparently not.  I've been told I'm lucky.  I'm okay with that.
I don't question from where it comes.  I often feel like I'm a conduit for or a transcriber of stories.
I've also been asked if they're based on personal experience.  No.  Well, I guess if I'm writing about home (Nfld.) or myself, then yes but the rest are pure fiction.
I think my imagination is well developed.  It's the place I went to as a child and later as an adult when life was challenging.  Someone said to me the other day that so many people's imagination has been stifled or shut down altogether.  I don't know if I could survive without mine. 
That's why joining a writer's group was so good for me.  It gave me a means to gauge what it is I do and realize, and finally come to believe, I have a talent for putting words on paper.
What I've learned about writing as much as life is, what I know can fill a thimble, what I don't know could fill the universe.  Getting involved wth a writer's group, the feedback and reaction to my writing, has helped sweep away much of the doubt.
Because one of the things I hope to accomplish with this blog is to generate interest in the novel I'll write once I get back to Nfld., it's only fair I should offer up my writing so you can determnine if my writing would be worth your while.
Don't judge by this one piece only.  My stories can be tame or wild, sentimental or fierce, depending on my muse and it's inclinations.  The following piece has no title.  (UPDATE 5/27/10:  Thanks to friend Philo, I have a title)

     A Dead End

Georgina jumped out of bed, stepped into her pink, healed boudoir slippers, stretched and smiled.
Todd would be home today. Finally, after three weeks away, the love of her life would return and she could be happy again. Life ceased in his absence.
He had encouraged her to take up a hobby, join one of the women’s clubs in town or volunteer at the shelter.
“You need to find something to do so you’re not so lost every time I go away,” he said.
“But I don’t want to find something to do,” she replied, child like. You’ll be back soon and I won’t need anything to distract me because I’ll have you.” She reached up and stroked his face.

With nothing else to occupy her time, she spent most mornings in bed, sleeping. It was her escape. Time went faster that way and besides, when she slept she dreamt of Todd and their wedding day. He hadn’t asked her yet but it was only a matter of time.
Today she was up and dressed by 10 a.m.
Georgina busied herself tidying up the place. It always fell apart, just like she did, while he was away. What was the point, after all? She’d pick him up at the station tonight which gave her plenty of time to get it together.
She knew exactly what she’d wear, had it picked out the night he left. The powder blue dress, with the white trim along the collar and ¾ length sleeves likewise trimmed in white.

She turned on the radio and soon was dusting furiously. She hated housework except on the day of his return. Then she didn't mind it so much because she was doing it for him.  Everything had to be perfect.
Once the vacuuming was finished, she hauled the sheets off the bed and replaced them with the red silk sheets Todd thought were so sexy. She loved the feel of them beneath her as they made love - cool and slippery.
She screamed out loud at the thought of them making love. The smile on her face, the first one since he left, made her feel like a little girl with a big secret she wouldn’t tell anyone, no matter what.

By 4 p.m., the chores were completed. She stepped out the front door of their rented house, a modest bungalow at the end of a narrow, tree lined street called Tamarack Road. She really didn’t like it here but it was bearable and besides, home was wherever Todd slept.
The market, five blocks away, was her favourite place in town. She loved the fresh cut flowers, the exotic array of foreign fabrics, and the colourful, strangely named fruits and spices but most especially, she loved the Armenian bakery.
The first few days after Todd left she succumbed to her bread temptation and ate ravenously, morning, noon and night – bread with butter, bread with jam, bread with peanut butter and jam or just plain bread, fresh and white, was the only thing that could fill her in his absence.
Georgina knew she couldn’t carry on forever consuming massive amounts of white heaven, as she called it. She had to keep her figure. At 25, she must be careful. Her mother always said men quickly lose interest when the figure starts to go.
She was one of the lucky ones though. She didn’t need to do much to keep it, just not eat. She rarely ate, other than the bread binges. Well, except when Todd was around. He worried she was pining away so she made sure to eat when he was there.

A roast was in the oven. The potatoes and vegetables were prepared. She knew Todd loved to come home to the house smelling this way.
“A house is not really a home unless it smells like something is cooking or baking in it,” he told her when they first started to date.
She hadn’t cooked or baked in her life but soon she signed up for cooking classes at the “Y”. She was determined to be exactly what Todd wanted. Each time he gave her a clue, she filed it away and, at the first opportunity, she would learn everything she could on the subject.
Like the time he told her he was a Bruce Lee fan. She went to the library to find out all she could, only to learn Bruce Lee was an actor. The librarian said she should go to the video store and rent a movie. She had never done that before.
When she returned to the cramped apartment she shared with her mother, the older woman laughed at her and said, “stupid girl, you need a machine to put that thing in if you want to watch it”.
Georgina was humiliated not for the first time by her mother’s sarcastic, slurred taunts.
It took a month, but she managed to save enough money for a Beta. With a lot of effort, Georgina got the thing working then rented every Bruce Lee movie she could get her hands on. When next she saw Todd, she wowed him with her knowledge of the actor and his movies.
She was an empty vessel and Todd would fill her up. Whatever he liked, she liked. Whatever were his interests became her interests. Whatever his plans became her plans.
Whatever she would become, would be what he would want her to be, no matter what it took.
Todd asked her to move in six months after they met. She didn’t have to think about it. Finally, the life she had always dreamed of had arrived. Everything she had ever hoped for, she found with him. She felt happy, secure and safe for the first time.

She arrived at the train platform at 8 p.m. just as Todd had requested the week before. He had a surprise for her he said and she couldn’t wait.
The man in the ticket office said the train was delayed due to a derailment outside of Piedmont but expected it to arrive sometime around 9:30 p.m.
It didn’t matter how long she had to wait. She would wait an eternity if it meant seeing Todd. She checked  her image in the bathroom mirror, reapplied her lipstick and smoothed out her dress. She looked perfect, just the way he liked her.
Things had been a little tense this last month or so. She just figured he was adjusting to his new sales job that took him away from her more and more often. She hated the job but he said he could make more money so she accepted it.
Off in the distance she heard the train whistle as it came through the other end of town then the announcement of its arrival.
Not much longer she thought. Not much longer.
She stepped out onto the platform, looked down one last time at her dress, tossed her head and flicked her hair with her right hand and waited.
The train pulled up and soon people poured out, some looked weary, others looked happy, most look disinterested.
“Where is he?” she said in a low, concerned voice.
“Hello,” a voice said from behind her. His voice, how could she have missed him? She turned on her heels, a radiant smile on her face and was about to speak but stopped.
Her face, flushed a moment ago, drained of all colour. She looked at his attire, looked up into his eyes then back down at the outfit.
A perplexed look washed over her face. His face was solemn.
“Why are you wearing a uniform?” she asked, her voice quivering.
“Because I’ve joined the armed forces,” he replied, his face blank.
She blinked hoping that her eyes were deceiving her, that the last few seconds were a mistake, that this was all in her head, that she was just standing here waiting for him and this terrible thought came into her mind. It couldn’t be real.
“Georgina,” he said reaching out for her but she backed away.
“I don’t understand,” she sobbed. “I don’t understand what is going on.”
“Please let me explain,” he replied trying to close the gap between them.
“No, don’t touch me. This is a joke, right Todd? This can’t be for real. You’ve signed up which means you’re leaving me.”
A look of absolute fear spread across her face.
“My God, you’re leaving me?” she cried. She clasped her hands over her mouth in an attempt to hold back a scream. Her knees buckled and she staggered backwards until she fell against a post.
“Georgina,” Todd shouted running towards her. “I’m sorry. I should have told you before I left, but I knew how you would react and well, I was a coward.”
A crowd soon gathered. Panic rose inside her. All those people, looking at her, judging her. It seemed they were all laughing at her. She couldn’t make sense of any of it.
She looked for Todd, stared right at him but didn't seem to recognize his face. He was just one of them, too close to her, touching her. She had to get away.

“Train 376 arriving from Pittsburgh, on Track 3” a voice boomed over the loudspeaker.
Her panic turned to terror as she pulled away from someone's grip and pushed through the crowd.
A man's voice was calling her name but she couldn’t make herself turn around. She had to get away. 
Everything faded to darkness. She crossed the tracks and ran toward the only light she could see.

Seems lik a Dream!

I'm seated at my friend Wynn Ann's kitchen table.  The house is quite as everyone is off having their day.  I'm just reviewing the pics I took and realize how many I didn't take, like one with me and the bride, the familiy with the bride.  It was that kind of day - busy buzzing around.
I arrived in Edmonton while the BBQ with the groom's family was underway.  I was made later by the fact that I was put into a non smoking room in which someone had smoked, a lot.  Yuck!  I was going to stick it out because I was already late but thought better of it.  Then the cards for the room wouldn't work and on it went.  Well, I arrived 10 minutes before the event ended but did meet the grooms family. Lovely, friendly people.  I expected no less.  Later that night, as more and more guests arrived from out of town, we relaxed, chatted, and laughed.  It had been years since I had seen some of these people.  Lots to catch up on.  It was after midnight before we shut it down.  I was up early the next morning looking out over a big city scape.

These two industrious young men walked by lugging bags of aluminum cans, likely beer cans to the depot. Let's hope it's not a weekly trip.  If so, someone's got a problem.

Saturday morning, everyone went their separate ways. People with kids headed to West Edmonton Mall, others went shopping and a few went to pick up last minute supplies.  Krista's immediate family and I went to the hall around 5pm for family photos and there she was, stunning in a dress she had redesigned to her own liking with her life partner looking handsome in his suite. 

You know a couple is right for one another when they light up in the other's presence.  Let's just say, I had to wear shades.  This was no ordinary wedding.  The theme was more like a cocktail party.  The intent being people would not just park themselves at one table all night but instead, mingle, chat and get to know one another.  The food was potluck.  There was tons before the guests arrived and even more by the time the place settled down for the ceremony.  Everything took place at the hall, the ceremony, the speeches/entertainment and the dance.  It was a casual, informal event - a bringing together of people they loved, not to impress or awe them with extravagence but to share in a celebration of their union.  People mixed and mingled with ease.  Everyone seemed to know everyone else though that wasn't the case.  It was a brilliant idea and I predict many of the young people there that night will consider the same idea on their special day.  

How's this for informal.  Even Grandma Jean joined the younger crowd seated on the floor.  Way cool grandma!

A few of the cousins posing for the camera

 The award for best dance moves goes to this young man.  What moves he has!  You know the expression Dance Like There's No One Watching?  He does.

Wynn Ann & Kate showing off their diva poses

     Bride with her mom

Life long friends Lisa (left, sister of the bride) and Jen.

The proud parents of the bride.  All they want is for their gooies to be happy.

It was all over too fast.  By 1 a.m. we had cleared out the hall and joined other family members back at the motel to continue the party.  Let's just say a good time was had by all.  You know when a bunch of Newfies get together, it's going to be a laugh and a half!

The next day, Mother's Day, we gathered at Denny's for breakfast.  How we managed to get seats is beyond me but we did.  We were there for at least two hours.  I think they knew we were all together. 

Afterwards, though some had already hit the road and others were still inside eating, the rest of us gathered outside for one last photo, lots of hugs and promises to stay in touch. 

Lisa joined me for the ride back to Three Hills and, as often happens lately, I yinged when I should have yanged but eventually made it home. 

Now I'm sitting here thinking about the more than five weeks I've been on the road, all the changes that life has brought, all the changes in the lives of the people I love (all good) and I'm astounded by how quickly it's all moving by.  A moment ago, Krista was this little girl looking at me from the stroller wondering how she should react to the sight of rushing water under the Coal Creek bridge in Fernie.  Now, she's a married woman making her way in the world, looking inside herself for the answers. 

 Someone asked me over the weekend if I'm tired of the road yet.  No, not even close!  It feels like a moment since I began. I realize though how much I will miss these people, this other family of mine, who have given so much to my life.  I am indeed a  fortunate woman.

Overnight Fernie then on to Edmonton

I did take Antonio to Walt's garage and met a young fellow named Mike.  I asked if he might check under the hood.  He did and assured me I was good to go when I told him I would eventually visit my mechanic back in Calgary.  Well, he could have said no, or could have said come back later, or could have said "that'll be $50" but he didn't.  He just took a few minutes to assure me all was good.  So, a shout out to Mike at Walt's garage in Creston, B.C. 
I left Creston shortly after noon and headed for Cranbrook.  Lots of road work and some delays but hey, you gotta take whatever comes.  A grain of sand in the desert of life!
I did stop in Cranbrook to have lunch and Frank's Steak and Schnitzel Haus.  OMG!  One piece of advise, if you go there, share a meal, it's huge. 
I was soon on the road to Fernie to stay with my friend Philo and family.  Ah, Fernie, the place where I grew up in other ways - where words moved from my mind, through my fingers, out to the world.  It's where I experienced bliss for the first time in a job.  Philo is originally from Ireland. We met at the Fernie Bakery in the early 80s. All my dearest friends today are ones I met in Fernie around that time. I was gathering friends like flowers and those relationships continue to bloom today. But that's for another time.  I was here overnight only though will be returning before I head east.
I arrived with my doggie bag and we had supper before heading out for a walk.  We got back around 10:30 and it was off to bed.  I was tired.  These 5:30 a.m. wake-ups make for early bedtimes. 

I was up at 6am and out the door by 6:25.  I had to scrape the windsield.  Oh, so many are upset about the return of winter but it will be gone soon enough and we'll, NO I'll be complaining about the heat.  I prefer cool to hot.
I arrived in Calgary three hours later and stayed for an hour or so to take care of some things before heading north to Edmonton another three hours away.  Lots of driving these last few days but I dion't mind it.  It still beats sitting at a desk.  This was my new office, my new job, driving across the country and writing about whatever comes my way.  OK, the pay is lousy but I'm working on that.  One day I'll find work that brings me joy AND a decent paycheque.  Never had that combo. before.
So here I am at a reasonably priced, challenged fraught establishment in Edmonton.  I'm here for a wedding.  My niece (by heart, not blood) K. is getting married this evening.  She's starting on her own adventure, the biggest one of her life and trust me, she's had a few, for one so young.  I don't worry about her though.  She's was given a solid foundation and has a inner strength that will keep her grounded. I call her "my heart" because her life brought life back my heart.  Don't get me started!

Pushed on to Creston

Left Revelstoke around 10am, heading south to Nakusp then on to Nelson.  Driving through a corridor of trees, I realized there are so many different shakes of green, from yellow green to a dark green that`s almost black.  I took the ferry from Shelter Bay, all of 10 minutes before heading south to Nakusp.

Even in overcast conditions, it`s always beautiful in Beautiful British Columbia.  Can you tell I have a soft spot for the province.

Before I continue on this leg of the trip, I wanted mention something.  You remember in an earlier blog, I talked about watching some First Nations men load a totem onto a flatbed truck for transport to a site that, previously, was a residencial school.  Well I stopped in at the tiny village just before Port Alberni and asked a young fellow if he knew where the site was.  Didn`t he drive me right to the spot.  I stopped for several minutes to contemplate and be silent. 

There it is, at the bottom is the wolf, then the orca, the woman and the eagle.  A permanent testiment to the power of the human spirit through creativity.

Meantwhile, back at the cafe in Ucluelet, I mentioned I was playing with words. 

The power of words or the baffoonery of them.  You decide.

My next stop was Nakusp, a lovely little spot with a well kept waterfront.  This is a funky little town with an annual music festival that draws quite a crowd, so I`m told.  For a small town, it`s a happening place.

There is a walk about on the water front and this lovely beach to the left.  This tiny dwelling seems precarious at the edge of the water but I bet it rocks the occupant to sleep every night.

    

This sign was inside the Middle Earth cafe.  Couldn`t resist taking the shot.  This noisy little fellow entertained me until I tried to move closer then off he went.

     

Someone in Nakusp has a quirky artistic flare.  This was a dinosaur made from a skull and wood.  There are a few lovely seating areas to sit for contemplation, reading or simply enjoying the spectacular view.

I walked along the waterfront and main street for over an hour, spoke with a few of the local population but mostly observed.  The town has a great feel to it.  I headed south again and stopped at one vantage point and grabbed a few shots.

     

I believe this is in the New Denver area but I could be wrong.  Specular vistas from this vantage point.  The 2nd picture is looking down, way below, at the tops of 30` high trees.  It was way up there.

I noticed I was seeing more animals along the road on this leg of the trip.  Hadn`t seen many at all.  Once I got close to Salmo, there were all kinds.  I was coming over a summit when I spotted something black in the distance.  And yes, indeedy I got my bear shot. 

It looks close because I am close.  A few hundred feet away but I felt confident because I scoped out to make sure he had no friends close by and I had a cement baracade AND I was within feet of my car. 

Saw lots of deer.  Unlike the ones in Alberta, this guys take to the woods instead of to the road when they see a vehicle coming.  I`ve had too many close calls with deer at night so I don`t the highways of Alberta anymore unless I can see what`s ahead of me.  I did see a moose on this side of the Salmo pass but unfortunately, he headed for the ditch by the time I pointed the camera and all I got was nothing.  Grrr.  Can`t get `em all.

So I thought I would have a day when I didn`t have a great encounter with a human as I have had so many since I began this adventure more than a month ago.  I was driving along and spotted some sheep in the meadow with young lambs.  Ah, so cute.  I turned my car around and headed back there.  I drove into the lane and was met by a rather large dog.  I stayed in my car and was going to pull out when I saw this fellow walk towards me.  `Don`t worry about him (or was it her)`` he says. `He`s just a puppy`.  I love dogs and that was all the assurance I needed.  I got out. He held his puppy back because he would have been all over me and I would have ended up on the ground.  Big puppy, sorry I didn`t get a picture or remember the breed.  Colin was the owner of the property, born and raised.  He was very welcoming and when I told him I was interested in getting some shots of the lamb (honest Colin, I really didn`t think they were goats.  The horns through me).  Well as soon as I approached, they all turned their backs and walked away.  Hmmm!  He fetched a bucket of chicken feed to entice them to return and still it took a few minutes before they all headed straight for us.  Well I got the pictures I wanted.

     

Momma with her twins.  Looks like hard work.  Another mother with her triplets.

This little fellow han`t been feeling well, according to Colin.  Not sure what the problem is.

Meet Colin, his daughter Calla (greek for beautiful) and son Ethan.  Like many people who live in these rural communities, they have to be good at a number of things to make a living.  Colin has a trade (electrical or mechanical, again can`t recall which), he`s a meat cutter and of course, he has his animals and land.  For fun, he competes in a sport known as Rock Crawling.  If you watch The Rick Mercer Report, you`ll remember when Rick and Newfoundland`s premier Danny Williams took a 4x4 with humungous tires and drove, very slowly over even more humungous boulders.  It`s a sport apparently.  Who knew.

And here`s the beast, cut back to the bone so Colin can rebuild it bigger faster and stronger.  Okay, not faster but definitely the other two.  Good luck and thanks Colin for the visit.  Nice meeting you too Calla. 

I did make it to Nelson, funkiest or funky towns but my has it grown.  There were lots of people there and I knew if I spent the night I would be even further behind so I took a quick tour around, found some interesting looking steets and left.  Decided to push on to Creston.  It was before Creston that I saw the moose.  I know it`s just a story without a picture.  Had to come over the Salmo pass before arriving and the road was clear and, for the most part, dry.   People gripe about the winter conditions still but my, it`s lovely up there.

The top of the Salmo pass

These mountain sheep look small and somewhat scraggily but its early spring and they`re shedding their winter coats.  The little ones were frisky jumping back and forth over the barrier, unlike the wiser adults who know to be cautious. 

Well, that`s it.  I gotta get going.  Got to bring Antonio (that`s my car, named it that because it reminds me of a giggalo, costs money but brings pleasure) to see Walt at a local garage.  Been smelling oil, so want to get it checked out before I hit the road.  Pat, Creston Valley motel manager assures me I won`t be ripped off.  Pat`s a wealth of info about technology and told me about an internet service he thinks will be useful to me while I`m on the road.  Thanks Pat, on both counts.

Leaving Tofino heading to Victoria?

Authentic tasting, inexpensive taco try this bus, found at the back of the parking lot.  The name eludes me but it's just before the Tofino Botanical gardens on the outskirts of town.  If you're young, or young at heart, this is for you!
Further down the road, I stopped at Radar Hill.  Apprently there used to be a "Cold War" radar installation there.  It has a boardwalk, not strenous at all and the view is lovely.
















I was that you can't visit Vancouver Island and not stop at Long Beach which starts at Schooner Cove and runs all the way down to Wickaninnish Beach.  They don't call it long for nothing!  So I headed south and since there were a number of entrances along the way, I decided to wait until a place called out to me to stop.  Further along, I saw a number of cars in a parking lot and decided this must be that place.  It was perfect.  There were people but only a few and some of them were surfers.  Hooray.  Good photo ops to be sure.  Well, words are wasted in trying to describe this place.  Okay I'll try.  Beautiful, spectacular, soul enhancing.  Ah never mind.  Take a look, come up with your own words.

Why do people insist on leaving Canada to see the world when our world is so specular?

It's not only what you see but it's what you hear, the sound of surf rushing the sand.  Ah, this must be Zen!

Children being children.  How nice to see.

Surfers are a persistent bunch.  I didn't see one manage to get up and ride a wave. 

But that didn't stop them from trying.  I guess the trying is the journey, the wave is the destination.

And you know, they say it's about the journey!

This is the high point above Long Beach.  A young couple insisted I should have my pic. taken.  Ah, it's for prosterity, why not?  I'm so much more comfortable behind the lens.

I walked the beach for a bit but after an hour, I hopped in the car and headed south.  I thought I'd give Ucluelet a second look.  I did get some great harbour shots when I was there for those few minutes, before Tofino.  I checked into a motel on the way into town and met Brenda.  When I told her what I was up to she said she had someone working for her that was a writer of "bodice rippers", that's the term for romance novels, the Harlequin type.  I knew I had to meet her.  I settled in and headed out to pick up some milk for tea but decided I was more in the mood for a decaf with Irish Cream.  The gent in the liquor store thought it a little pecular that I came in for a just a shot but since you can buy that stuff by the shot, I thought why not.  Heading back I decided to take a look around and found myself at the end of main street which ends at the harbour.  I parked in the lot to my right, got out and made my way to the wharf where a fishing vessel was moored.  I heard a noise, turned, looked up in the tree directly behind me to see a bald eagle land right next to its fledgling.  I didn't have my camera, me who takes my camera everywhere, except the bathroom, didn't have a camera afterall I was just going out for a moment.  I sighed deep and said to myself, "never mind, just stand here and enjoy it" which I did.  Then I heard another eagle screech.  I stepped to my left and looked up the street to see two other eagles soaring overhead.  What luck!  I eyed them until they were over the harbour and joined by yet another eagle.  Honest, I'm not making this up.  I know, without a picture it's just another story but it gets better.  Two of the eagles flew towards one another, from either side of the harbour, locked claws, did three spirals downward toward the water, released then flew off in opposite directions.  I swear, I'm not making this up.  Though I could .  They were gone as fast as they appeared.  The mother and her fledging however were not.  I decided to take a chance and head back to the hotel for my camera.  I returned but the momma had gone. 

Waiting for mom to return.  The little fella or gal looked so forlorn up there.  Where could she be?

I stuck around and hoped I'd see her return instead I was treated to another opportunity when some time around 7:30, two men walked passed me, one unlocked the door to the small building to my left and they walked in.  Brenda, back at the motel, had told me about people collecting species from the harbour for an acquarium down in this area.  By George, wasn't this the place she was talking about!  The fellow invited me in and I accepted.  Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather (I love that expression if for no other reason then the shear nonsense of it).  I was delighted to accept the invitation and after the 2nd gent left, Phillip talked to me about the collection and said I should come back 2moro and speak with Bob, "he's the real enthusiast".  I couldn't imagine anyone more enthusiastic as he talked. The reason for the collection was twofold: ecology and education.  The thought being if people knew about the creatures around them, they would be more conscious of their impact on the earth and step up to the cause of saving the environment which, in the end, is our environment.  So in essence were saving ourselves.

Phillip holding the many specimens on site for public viewing.

All creatures, great and small and colourfull

Fish, like people, can appear to have a bad attitude.

 Imagine a world without these beautiful creatures!   

There's a website to visit and once I find it, I'll put it on my blog for you to check out. 

I returned to the motel after that, knowing it couldn't get much better.  I poured the shot of irish cream into the decaf instant coffee I carry with me.  Ah, lovely!  I switched off the lights around 10:30 and just like that, it was 5:30 a.m. My internal clock is right on time.

After a shower, I dressed and drove back to the same spot I visited the night before.  Of course, the fledging wasn't there and, though it was overcast, it was still beautiful and quiet.  I love early morning, so peaceful and ripe with possibilities.  Well, if the gods of fortune weren't smiling down on me again today!  I look towards the dock and there, on top of a ship's rigging was an eagle.  It was like it was saying, "I felt bad I didn't stick around last night so I thought I come back today to see if you'd show up".  OMG.  She just sat there.  She knew I was there but it's an eagle afterall.  She didn't fear me, why would she.  I managed two shots before she took off.  "Thanks", I called after her.  She turned around and tilted her body first to the left, then the right, just like they do with airplanes when they want to wave at the folks below.  Okay, I made that last part up but I swear that's the only part.  Proof, you say!  Here it is.

Am I not a lucky so and so?  Apprently not, bald eagles are not an uncommon sight in Ucluelet, especially this time of year.  Still I feel lucky to have been there at that moment.   

Not sure what the black bird is but when I looked at it I thought cormorant.  The portion with the gulls look like a painting to me.  One day I'll have a place where many of the pictures I've taken over the years will be displayed.  I'm learning to put things out there.  They seem to manifest when you do that.  We'll see!

I went back to my room to blog the endo of my stay in Tofino and quickly ran out of time.  As I was leaving, it was pouring again.  It rained a lot but I don't mention it because it doesn't affect my experience.  I love the rain.  The way, this time of year at least, it wakes everything up.  Plus rain keeps lots of people indoors and I'm ok with that.  As I was packing up I saw a woman outside and asked if she was the writer.  Yes, she said and introduced herself.  Naomi Horton writes bodice rippers, that's romance novels for the uninformed.  I learned that only after joining a writer's group.  So far, she's had 20 books published and for now, is taking a break from it.  I hope one day to have written so much I need a break.  What a great place that must be.  She said there's money to be made with writing, though it's diminished over the years what with the Canadian dollar doing as well as it has.  Apprently she was paid in U.S. dollars.  We talked for several minutes but her need to get back to work and mine to get on the move necessitated the end of the conversation.  I felt much inspired after our encounter.

I found a local restaurant and had breakfast then went for a walk in the rain. I came across the Wild Heather cafe and, seeing it was open (Ucluelet, unlike Tofino, is not open 24/7 and most places are closed on Sunday), I walked in.  I was the only one there, except for the gal behind the counter.  I ordered a chai tea latte (yeah, it's my favourite cafe beverage) and looked around a little. I spotted a board behind the cappuccino machine and spent the next 2.5 hours moving magnectic words around.  I was litterally playing with words and what fun I had.  Over the next few hours, other people strolled in but not for long so I had a long session of almost uninterupted play.  It was great.  I learned that the gal behind the counter, Ashley, had recently finished her novel so I was intrigued.  She too was intrigued by my story.  She had a publisher but couldn't find an agent.  Now she had to deal with the contract negotiations herself - a challenge but she was learning a lot.  She's an intelligent young woman and I'm confident she'll get it published, sooner than later.  Good luck Ashley.  Again, I'm running into people who are on a similar journey.  I never cease to be amazed.  I was told if I see nothing else before I leave, I should check out the Black Rock resort.  I was given some good directions but as I've learned on this trip, I'm lousy at following directions.  I barped the horn (that's what we do in Nfld. although it's been a while since I heard someone say that).  Anyway I barped the horn and this guy driving by in a truck stopped and I told him I was looking for the Black Rock resort.  He told me to follow him and when he stopped, he said just keep going right, you can't miss it.  That's what he thinks.  Well, my mouth dropped when I saw it for the first time.  What a work of art.  I walked in at 3:30 and was told the restaurant was closed and setting up for dinner but I was welcome to go to the lounge and order an appetizer.  I looked around at the black stone wall, the architecture and the artwork and fell in love. The cost is $200/night and that's the low end of things but I thought when I win the lottery, I'm gonig to throw a party here, fly everyone in and book the place for a week.  Again, the landscape is so much like Nfld.  The woman behind the desk said she knew Newfoundlanders who lived here for that exact reason.  The architect is Ron Lea or Via Architect in Vancouver.  He's been out only once since it was built.  He wanted to see the sun rise (or sunset) from the fourth floor.  I imagined he wanted to see if it met his imagination when it was merely a thought in his mind.  So google the Black Rock resort in Ucluelet and see for yourself.

I was headed to Victoria when, on the spur of the moment, I found myself in Nanaimo at Departure Bay.  I think I was starting to feel the financial pang of overspending and thought it was time to leave the island before I put out another few hundred dollars.  It was 7:30 when I arrived and the next ferry was slated to leave at 9.  It was a cold and stormy night, to use a cliche, wet, wet and wet.  The wind had picked up as well.  I found myself sitting there thinking about wicked weather trips across Conception Bay when I ferried from Bell Island to Portgul Cove before I left Newfoundland all those years ago.  I remember one particular trip so scary that I insisted on someone, I think my brother, telling me every gorry detail of the Chain Saw Masachre so I could take my mind off the extreme sway of the ship.  It didn't help, not when fast food containers were flying off the tables and everything that wasn't bolted down flew from one side of the lounge to the other.  So with these images in my head I thought, perhaps I'll just pull out of the line up and come back 2moro.  They'll have to honour my ticket.  I fought with myself to stay in line and eventually, 40 minutes late, we boarded the vessel.  That it was 40 minutes past due did nothing but enhance my apprehension.  When I walked up one floor to the seating area, I said to a crew member, looking all relaxed, "I suppose it's going to be a rock and roll show out there tonight".  I hoped he didn't hear the nervousness in my voice or see the mild panic welling in my eyes.

"Nah, should be a good crossing,"  he said matter of factly.  "Liar," I thought to myself and found a seat.  Perhaps if I got lost in the latest book I'm reading "The Bishop's Man" by Linden MacIntyre, I would not notice the motion.  I started to read and it must be 20 minutes later I noticed we were on the move.  I waited but nothing.  How could it look and sound so stormy on shore, yet I barely deteched movement on the ocean?  I looked out the window, down the side of the ship and saw water against the ship but that was the only indication we were sailing.  I returned to my book and before you knew it, we were there.  When I drove off the ship, the wind was whipped up and the rain was coming down, heavy.  At first I was comforted by the knowledge I wasn't alone, but soon I wished I was as many cars hockeyed for 1st place.  I got through Vancouver without incident then lost my way and found myself heading to the U.S. border.  I didn't get scared, I got angry and then in front of me was the new toll bridge I had taken coming and going from Fort Langley.  I could find my way.  I got to Maple Ridge but without a place to stay as I hadn't phoned Amy to let her know I'd be there.  So I did something I've wanted to do and probably should have done on the island, I slept in the car.  It was 1a.m., the rain, heavy and pounding down was like a lullaby and I was soon asleep.  I had intended on going back into Vancouver but when I woke at 5:30 (again that internal clock), the next thing I knew I was heading east for Revelstoke.  I had run out of time and knew another days' delay on the coast meant I would miss appointments I had back east in Alberta, so off I went.  I showed up in Revelstoke and was greeted by Jean with a hug that suggested she hadn't seen me in years. So here I am updating my blog after finishing up two servings of home made soup.  Yummy. 

Allison Lake Summit, shot through the windshield.  Too snowiy to step outside for a pic..  I drove over two summits, both of which were in the throes of winter and made it here safe and sound.